


The inebriated cycle

by hikaru90



Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen, Prompt Fic, during Timeskip, op_bingo2020, prompt: alcohol abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:40:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28512051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hikaru90/pseuds/hikaru90
Summary: And here it was again. That desire. That spasmodic longing to put an end to the torture of reminiscence and sink even deeper into blood-drunk oblivion to become more and more insistent.She gave a wry look to the side. The glass was still there. On that forgotten table. A magnet for her eyesight.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7
Collections: One Piece Bingo 2020/2021





	The inebriated cycle

**Author's Note:**

> This one-shot partecipates to the OP Bingo 2020/2021, with the alcohol abuse prompt.  
> Many thanks to DragonLady90 who betaread the fic.  
> Hope you like it!

With a pounding headache and heavy lids, Kokoro looked straight ahead. The distorted din of laughter and cackles inside the inn acted as a disturbing background voice.

Nevertheless, she tried to refocus.

_So, to sum up:_

_Four. Eight. Twelve._

_Twelve mugs of beer._

_Plus the two bottles of rum consumed from noon, the three glasses of sake offered by Zambai at lunchtime, and that excellent homemade liqueur made by my daughter-in-law equals ... let's see... how many liters of alcohol?_

_Thirteen? No, I’m sure it's more. A WHOLE lot more._

"Old woman, did you hear me?"

Kokoro swayed her gaze from the empty mugs confusedly arranged on the counter in front of her to the man on the left with a mellifluous toothy smile, completely oblivious to what he had just said.

“I'm afraid not, dear. You know, after a certain age, hearing is no longer what it used to be. Do a favor to this poor, hard-of-hearing old lady, and repeat what you said."

After blinking a dozen times, she barely distinguished Paulie’s raised hairbow. It seemed that the young man hadn’t brought up the story of the granny with a hearing loss.

Nonetheless, he spoke again. She was grateful that he ignored it.

Well, not _too_ grateful. There was always the berrys he owed her for losing the card game just two weeks earlier. She hadn't forgotten. It was quite a bundle.

"I was saying that tomorrow is the opening ceremony for the new marine train," whispered the carpenter with an almost comical seriousness, approaching his chair to hers, the ever-present cigar at the corner of his mouth drawing irregular swirls of smoke. "It is an important day for the company. Especially for Mr. Iceberg. I think he'd like you to come. "

Kokoro stifled a laugh and rested her elbow on the counter, her balance maintained with precarity. Had she ordered a couple more beers, she would have already spat them in Paulie's face. She was sure of it.

"Did he tell you this?"

“Mr. Iceberg? No, he would never say that. But we both know he'd want you there. You are still the only member of Tom's workers he has left, " he extinguished the butt of his cigar using the bottom of his glass and hastened to light another one. He gave her a sideways glance. "Am I wrong?"

"Ahr ahr, I see. You’re well informed!" Kokoro yelled, giving him a strong pat on the shoulder, longing to have another bottle of wine with her. Or another glass of rum. Or any other source of alcohol, seriously. The mere mention of Tom made that desire an urgency.

At a nearby empty table, she intercepted a half-full glass, colored in an inviting dark red. She moved her chair in the direction, to snatch it as soon as the opportunity arose. “You overestimate the role I played in his life: I was just the secretary, in that little group of misfits. Iceburg won't need me tomorrow. Trust me."

Paulie grunted, unconvinced. He grunted a lot more, she noticed, since becoming vice president of the big firm. Not that he wasn’t doing it when he was one of the Dock one’s foremen. The new responsibilities seemed to have worsened his mood. And to think that he once was such a sweet, carefree child! She still remembers him, at the opening of the Puffing Tom, with snot in his nose, barking right and left his dream to become a carpenter.

"Maybe. But if I were you, I’d still go for a ride to Blue Station. "

"I do not-"

Stabbing pain in the head. And then.

_The rain beat hard on the skin like a thousand bullets. Tom, oblivious to the weather, put a hand on her shoulder and laughed coarsely as if they were celebrating something._

_“What a great place to start your life, eh? Look at how beautiful this city is! Seriously, with all these canals, gondolas, and the water everywhere, it seems it was made just for us fish-men, right? Oh, Come on, Kokoro! Don’t cry."_

She closed her eyes, rubbing her temples.

_From the corner of her eye, she watched Tom gazing proudly at Iceburg and Cutty Flam, as they bickered while trying to retrieve some still-functioning objects from the dismantling area._

_“Do you see these guys? Yes, they’re troublemakers and a huge pain in the ass, but they’re the best pupils I could ever wish for. I will die if anyone dares to lay a hand on one of them. "_

_Horrified by the blood flowing around her, she looked away with a lump in her throat._

_“We’ve come to the parting of our ways, Kokoro. Please keep an eye on the boys for me."_

Memories from a never-quite-forgotten past resurfaced. Clouded and confusing; like a series of photos belonging to unrelated periods, and glued together without a logical order in a family album. It was painful. Oh, so painful.

And here it was again. _That_ desire. That spasmodic longing to put an end to the torture of reminiscence and sink even deeper into blood-drunk oblivion to become more and more insistent.

She gave a wry look to the side. The glass was still there. On that forgotten table. A magnet for her eyesight. She couldn’t help it.

She was about to approach the table to grab it when, in a flash of clear-headedness, she had the strength to stop.

_I have to get out of here._

_I have to get out of here._

_I have to get out of here._

Helping herself with the carpenter's shoulder and the corner of the counter, Kokoro got up, the floor waving up and down like the sea just before aqua laguna.

"I'll think about it," she had the strength to answer him. Then, regardless of what the boy was about to tell her, she staggered towards the exit of the inn. The unbearable shouts and laughter of the customers echoed in her head.

* * *

With head lowered and knees to the ground, Kokoro threw up everything in her body under a canal bridge.

The acidity that remained in her throat, along with the pain in her stomach and the head that continued to spin, were overall a right punishment for the amount of alcohol she had consumed since morning. Yet they didn't stop her from thinking about Tom and the pain his imprisonment had given to her, Iceburg, and Cutty Flam.

_“I could never regret building the Oro Jackson. Never! It was a great honor to have contributed to its implementation."_

She rested her head on the point where the bridge tilts upward, feeling pain in the pure act of breathing.

_“You two. Stop it! We all know that your constant bickering is a way to show each other affection, right Yokozuna? And don’t look at me with those disgusted faces. It’s the truth."_

_“If you regret what you have built with the sweat of your hands, then you are not even worthy of calling yourself a carpenter. You can leave for good, as far as I'm concerned."_

_That's enough. That's enough. THAT'S ENOUGH!_

"Granny?"

Kokoro jerked to the side, hitting something sharp with her elbow and feeling a stubbing pain. She tried to focus on her niece — the voice was hers — but what she saw was a halo surrounding a not-so-well-defined childish figure.

She sighed.

She was ashamed to be seen in that miserable state by her, the only member of her family who didn’t consider her a loose cannon or ignored her. That sweet little girl was the only ray of sunshine in her sad, grey life. She never was a model of virtue, but even she knew that Chimney didn't deserve a dumb drunk old woman as a grandmother.

Many times she had promised herself that she could change for her. That she could have closed forever the vicious circle of her alcoholism. Just for her. For her little way-too-enthusiastic niece.

But she already knew that her promises were empty.

She got up and fell. Many times.

Over and over again, stumbling at the same spot.

She looked at the hand Chimney was holding out and took it, putting aside her pride and accepting her distress call.

* * *

Kokoro woke with a start. She abruptly lifted her torso and glanced around, not recognizing where she was. She immediately regretted having made such a sudden gesture because she instantly felt a huge pang overwhelm her head. And the blinding light in the room didn't help her feel any better.

After a while, when her eyes got used to the light and her head didn't feel like it was pierced by a jackhammer every three seconds and so, she noticed that she was at her son's house. She had no idea how she got there.

With a cracked voice, she called someone, but no one answered.

She stayed in bed for a full minute, staring at the blank ceiling.

Then, she slowly got up and glanced at the calendar.

It was Puffing Ice‘s inauguration day.

Her eyes searched for a watch, to see if she could make it to the ceremony. _It will surely be held at Blue Station_ , she thought. To her misery, she couldn't find any watch.

She dressed as quickly as her condition allowed her, and opened the door of the apartment.

At that moment, she remembered the liquor bottle hidden in the pantry.

So she closed the door, opened the pantry fence, and saw the half-empty bottle.

Without a second thought, she hit the sauce like there was no tomorrow.


End file.
